Strawberry Fields Forever
by Kinz
Summary: Ginny's sixth year. DG. Something awful happened to Ginny over the summer, something that could destroy her. When she bumps into Malfoy at the train station, he gets drawn into a drama that never should have happened. Contains sensitive matter.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Co., any elements taken from ****Speak**** by Laurie Halse Anderson (like Andy Evens), Fall Out Boy, "Strawberry Fields Forever" by the Beatles, or any of the OC's besides Lizzy. **

A/N: Okay, so I'm really bored. I wrote this around three years ago and I was reading it again today and decided that, although Draco is OOC, it wasn't terrible. So I'm posting chapter one… and we'll see if anything else gets posted. If you didn't know, I'm not exactly known for finishing stories. In fact, it's quite the opposite.

Some of the elements of the story are from the book Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. If you haven't read her books, you totally should.

Warnings: Rape, cutting, language, and major OOCness on the part of Draco. (I _swear_ that it won't happen throughout the whole story. I'm just too lazy to change it in this chapter, which was already all written. He'll be back to his arsehole self in chapter two. Promise.)

* * *

**Ginny's PoV**

Ugh. Another year at Hogwarts.

It's not as if I don't like Hogwarts; that's not true. I love it.

But going back to school means having to face people, having to endure endless chatter and questions, but worst of all, having to face HIM.

"GINNY!"

Oh, shit. Now Mum's going to start bitching at me to get up and dressed.

I feel somebody shake me. I groan, and they shake me again.

"Get up, Ginny, or you won't get any breakfast!"

My eyes slowly open in spite of my decision to keep them closed. Standing over me is Fred. Actually, it might be George, but you can never tell, and they don't care.

"Go 'way. Trying to sleep," I mumble, trying to act like I haven't been awake the whole night. I haven't been sleeping very well this whole summer, but with the right makeup, you can't tell.

Fred/George's grin widens. "Sorry, Gin, but you only have five minutes to get ready before they leave for the Hogwarts Express."

I sit straight up. "WHAT?"

"Only joking, Ginny. You have a total of ten minutes to get ready. Mum's got breakfast all ready, and the others are already up."

I get up and push him out of my room. Damn, only ten minutes? Why couldn't they wake me sooner? Bloody idiots…

I get dressed in two minutes, a record time for me. I put on a black v-neck long-sleeved T-shirt with "Stop looking at my chest, perv!" written on it in neon pink, and black cargo pants. I also have black platform boots on that have a five-inch platform and a seven-inch heel, and I'm wearing a pin that says "Leave me alone" on it.

I sit at my makeup table and add some finishing touches to my "beautiful" (yeah, right) face, first getting rid of the bags under my eyes, and then adding some mascara and eyeliner. After that, I drag my trunk downstairs.

When I step into the kitchen, everyone stares at me. Ron's mouth is wide open, his jaw slack, so I decide to pick on him.

"What's the matter, Ron? Never seen your own sister before?" I ask, hand on hip.

Unfortunately, at this point, Mum regains her voice.

"Ginevra Weasley, what are you wearing?"

I look down and shrug. "Clothes."

"Go and change! I will not let you out of the house looking like that!"

I open my mouth to respond with one of my wonderfully biting remarks (note the sarcasm), but Dad beats me to it.

"Molly, we have to leave now if we're going to make the train. Let Ginny wear what she wants; she'll be changing into her robes soon, anyway."

Mum thinks about that. "Alright, Arthur, but if she dresses like this all year, then we'll need to talk. OK, kids, let's get going!"

Harry and Hermione thank Mum for her "hospitality" and we all get into the car. Woohoo.

During the car ride, Hermione keeps trying to talk to me, but I ignore her and she finally gives up and starts talking to Harry and Ron instead. Mum frowns but says nothing.

I'm glad when we reach the station. I go through the barrier first and lose myself in the crowd.

I stand in the corner of the platform, waiting for my best friend Li, when HE sees me. I can see HIM coming towards me, making his way through the crowd.

I panic and try to run, but my legs don't work anymore. HE reaches me and touches my shoulder. I flinch and look up at HIM with fearful eyes.

"'Ello, poppit," HE whispers, taking my hand. HE leans over and tilts my face up so that our lips meet.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

"'_Ello, poppit," he says. I smile._

"_Hey!" I greet him, looking up and meeting his lips. We fence with our tongues until we're dizzy from lack of air._

_He smirks, pushes me down onto the bed._

"_You know you want to…" he says seductively. But I don't want to… and he won't listen…_

**END FLASHBACK **

* * *

I push away and run, leaving my trunk there. I'm looking back to see if HE's following (he is), so I don't see who I run into.

* * *

**Draco's PoV**

Shit. That hurt. Whoever did that is going to pay.

I look at the girl sprawled out half on top of me and half off. It's the Weasley girl. I'm ready to chew her out when I see her staring at a guy with a look of utter fear on her face. I know that look. It's how I feel before my father beats me.

"Sorry, Malfoy," she mumbles, getting up, ready to run again.

I grab her arm and she flinches in both pain and fear. What did that guy do to her? I take pity on her. I blame temporary loss of sanity.

"Is that guy bothering you?" I ask. She nods slowly, looking at me suspiciously.

I go up to the guy, who I recognize as a seventh-year Ravenclaw named Andy Evans. He stops walking when he sees me.

"Evans, what did you _do_ to Weasley?" I ask.

"I didn't do anything to her that she didn't _want_ me to do," he sneers at me.

"Well, she obviously didn't like it, so stay away from her."

He shrugs and walks in another direction.

I go back to where Weasley was watching..

"He won't bother you anymore," I tell her. She swallows and nods. The fear fades from her eyes, although a little of it remains.

"Thank you," she says stiffly, then runs after a brown-haired girl like nothing ever happened.

Girls.

* * *

**Ginny's PoV**

"Li! Li!" I yell, trying to catch up to my friend. She turns around and smiles. I finally catch up with her, and she hugs me tightly.

"Ginny! You haven't owled me all summer! How am I supposed to go through the whole summer without hearing from my best friend even once?" she says, smacking my hand gently.

I smile in spite of myself. HE seems so far away now.

"Sorry, Li, I've been really busy. So, how was your summer?"

As Li recounts her entire summer, including the guy from America that she dated while visiting, I mentally doze off. I haven't gotten much sleep since IT happened.

"Ginny! Wake up!"

Did I really doze off? Oops.

"Sorry, Li. I didn't get any sleep last night." Truth. "The train is boarding, we'd better go if we want a good seat." Truth. "I'm fine, really." Lie.

Li still looks at me suspiciously, but allows herself to be distracted as we go back for my trunk and then board the train.

Once we're seated comfortably in the last compartment of the Hogwarts Express, Li turns to me with an eyebrow raised.

"Ginny, what the hell are you _wearing_?"

Once more, I look down and shrug. "Clothes."

"But they're _black_! What happened to the bright, happy, non-Goth Ginny?"

"I'm not Goth!" I protest, avoiding the question.

"I know you're not, but do you have any idea whatsoever of how many people will think you're Goth?"

"So? Let them think. I don't care," I say, hoping she doesn't ask any more questions.

Li looks at me and nods approvingly. "I like it, Gin."

"Thankee."

We let our conversation wander, and just as we're about to get on the subject of Brad, the "hot senior" that Li dated in America, the compartment door opens and in walks Draco Malfoy.

And just as I thought I had forgotten about IT, too.

He smirks. "So, Weasley, gonna tell me what happened out there?"

I stand up and cross my arms. "No."

"Aww, why not? Is the Weasel scared?"

Li looks between us, confused. "Ginny, what's he talking about?"

"Nothing," I answer. Then I spot something. "So, Malfoy, gonna tell me what that is?"

I point to his cheek where a charm had obviously just worn off and an ugly-looking bruise has blossomed.

I can see a flicker of panic in his eyes, but it leaves as soon as it comes.

"No," he says flatly.

"Then bugger off and sit with all your Slytherin groupies," I say. He turns on his heel and leaves.

* * *

**Draco's PoV**

Shit, shit, SHIT. How the hell did the charm wear off? Now Weaslette is probably going to run off and tell all her little friends about the bruise she saw on Draco Malfoy's perfect face.

Fuck.

Well, the first thing to do is get the charm back up. I do, and then I go back to my compartment. I dig around in my trunk and find what I was looking for. Putting it in my pocket, I promptly leave the compartment, letting Pansy call after me like a lunatic.

* * *

**Ginny's PoV**

Dammit. He came this close to finding out, and if I know anything at all about Draco Malfoy, he'll find out. Then he'll tell the whole fricking school. Fuck.

I dig around in my trunk for something and put it in my pocket once I find it. Mumbling some lame excuse about having to use the loo, I walk out of the compartment.

I look for an empty compartment, and when I find one, I step inside and put a locking charm on the door.

I take the object out of my pocket and examine it absently. It's a small, plain dagger with an extremely sharp blade.

I pull up the sleeve covering my left arm and put the sharpest part of the blade to the skin. I press down and a trail of crimson appears beneath the knife. I do this two more times, pressing harder each time, until I can't feel anything anymore. I'm numb, and I like it that way. However, HIS face appears in front of my face, along with Li's unbelieving face, and one lonesome tear falls.

"You stupid bloody idiot," I whisper to myself. "If you hadn't been so careless, it never would've happened. You're weak, and you always will be."

"Why do you say you're weak, Ginny?" a voice comes from the door. No. I locked it. HE can't be here, HE just can't.

But he is.

"'Ello, poppit," he says, coming closer to me. I'm scared; I can't move. My feet are frozen.

I whimper, try to call for help, for _anybody_, but a whimper is all that comes out.

He smirks. "Are you scared, Ginny? You liked it last time; you know you did. Wanna do it again?"

I shake my head no. No, not again, not ever, but he doesn't listen. He comes closer, kisses me, holds my head in place so I can't stop the kiss. I try to scream, but I can't. He stuffs something in my mouth, and I can't spit it out.

"You know you want to, bitch, and you know you liked it last time. And now you've got Malfoy on my tail. You'll pay, but we need a little bit of fun first."

He forces me to the floor, gets on top of me. Nonononono. This is just like last time. I try to fight, try to force him off, but he holds my hands down with one hand and unzips his jeans with the other. Down come his pants, down come mine. No. Won't let him, not again…

But it's too late. He's inside me and it hurts it hurts it hurts get out get off.

And he does. Eventually. He zips up his jeans and smiles at me, getting up.

"Wasn't that fun, Ginevra Weasley?" he says casually, walking out the compartment door.

I get up, pull up my pants, pick up my knife, and cry.

After I had just begun to feel as if HE wouldn't come back, the door opens. I freeze.

Draco Malfoy walks into the room, looking slightly taken aback at my crying. Nonetheless, he acts like a Malfoy.

"Aww, is Weaslette crying?" he sneers. I only cry harder, clutching my still-bloody knife like a teddy bear.

"Go away, Malfoy," I sniff.

"No, I think I like this compartment," he says, sitting down opposite me. He spots the bloody knife.

"Weasley, tell me you weren't doing what I think you were doing," he says, taking the knife away. I stop crying.

"Give that back," I snarl, making a grab for it. He holds it out of my reach.

"As Head Boy, I am confiscating this knife," he proclaims, examining it. I make another wild grab for it, but he pockets it. I glare.

"May I please have my knife back, Malfoy?" I ask nicely, not really expecting it to do anything. He smirks.

"I'm sorry, but knives are not allowed in Hogwarts, except for table knives in the Great Hall and the kitchen." I want to smack him, but I'd die rather than touch another boy. I made that mistake once; I'm not about to do it again.

"Fine," I say, getting up. "I'll be leaving, then."

"Wait," he says. I turn around slowly.

"Yes?"

"Roll up your sleeves."

Shit, shit, shit. Not good not good not good.

"No."

"As Head Boy, I command you to roll up your sleeves," he says, looking serious. I snort.

"Head Boy? Is that what they told you? You look more like a royal bastard to me."

And I flounce out, feeling proud of myself. I don't really care when he shouts behind me, "Detention, Weasley!"

Instead, I just flip him off.

Once I get back to my compartment, minus my knife (damn Malfoy), I see that Val and Lauren have also joined our lovely entourage. I sit down and stare out the window. I think about what just happened and ignore the others. I want to go to sleep; I want to be alone.

And I want my knife back. Goddammit, I _need_ my knife back. Three isn't good enough.

Despite my scrutiny of the scenery outside the window of the Hogwarts Express, I don't really realize that we've reached Hogwarts until Val pokes me and informs me that we're the only ones left on the train.

We go out and find the last thestral-pulled carriage. We're pulled up towards the castle at high speed and I start humming without realizing it. It's a song by Fall Out Boy, and it perfectly describes my experiences with a guy named Chris. Chris died during the summer, killed by fucking Death Eaters.

"Hey Chris, you were our only friend, and I know this is belated, we love you back," Li sings along with my humming. She was the genius who introduced me to Fall Out Boy, as well as many other Muggle bands. The whole carriage falls silent with the memory of Chris and his twin, Nicole. They were both in our "group".

I absently pick at my chapped lips, making them bleed, until Lauren slaps my hand away. I glare at her and she shrugs, slapping my hand gently as it rises to my lips again.

"So, how was everybody's summer?" Li asks, breaking the silence. I breathe in relief and stare out the window again.

"So, Ginny, how was your summer?" Val asked. "None of us got any owls from you!"

Well, let's see. I was raped by my "boyfriend" and I started cutting. Anything else you want to know?

I force a smile. "Nothing special. Y'know, sleep in, play Quidditch, do homework… the same old stuff."

I look out the window again and find that we're at Hogwarts. I'm the first to get out of the carriage and the very last one to walk into the school.

I sit in the last available seat, at the very end of the Gryffindor table. The Sorting starts and I turn my head to the front of the room and doze off with my eyes open. I only wake up as Dumbledore stands up.

"I'm sorry to inform you that Voldemort" a bunch of gasps throughout the room "has struck again in these sad times. This time, he killed two of our own, Chris and Nicole Andersson. Let this be a moment of silence for these two brilliant children."

There is silence all through the Great Hall, only broken by the chatter of the Slytherin table. I look over and see that Malfoy isn't talking; his face is pale and he looks to be breathing heavily. I would bet anything that he killed my friends.

God, I hate him so much. The only good thing he's every done anyone is scare off HIM in the train station, and we all know how much _that_ worked, anyway. And he took my knife. Bloody bastard… he'll pay…

"Ginny!" I hear my name shrieked. I turn around and there's a girl with blonde braids, calling my name.

Hold on. I know those braids.

"Lizzy?"

She grins and nods, jumping into my arms like she's five years old instead of her eleven.

"Oh my God! Lizzy! But how come you're not…" I trail off. In case you were wondering, Lizzy is Chris and Nicole's little sister.

"Dead?" she asks softly. I nod. "I was at a friend's house that night. I've been at Hogwarts ever since. But it's OK! I've discovered all the secret passages!"

I smile. "I bet you did. So, you got into Gryffindor?"

"Yep!" she says happily. Her enthusiastic response makes my smile grow. All thoughts of the train are fading away.

I allow myself to be pulled up to Gryffindor Tower after the feast by Lizzy, although I try to shrink into the background every time we pass a boy. We finally reach the Fat Lady, and Lizzy says the password, which I seem to have missed in my daze.

Before we can go in, however, Hermione comes up to us.

"Ginny, you've got to go see Dumbledore. Malfoy told him something and now Professor Dumbledore wants to see you."

"Fuck," I whisper, causing Lizzy to screech "VIRGIN EARS!" and Hermione to look at me disapprovingly.

"Fine, I'll go. Hermione, take care of Lizzy for me; make sure she actually goes to bed instead of sneaking out, 'kay?" I ask, tickling Lizzy, who shrieks with laughter.

I turn around and walk to Dumbledore's office, only to see Draco Malfoy standing there, leaning against the gargoyle.

"What the fuck did you tell him?" I hiss. He smirks.

"Five points from Gryffindor for swearing at the Head Boy, and I told him about that literally bloody knife of yours."

"Malfoy, please… go tell him it was a mistake. That it wasn't my knife; it wasn't my blood, please. Tell him anything," I whisper. Dumbledore's gonna know, Malfoy's gonna know, the whole school's gonna know… the phrases are singing like melodies in my head. I can't get them out…

He can't know. Nobody can know.

And so I run.

I run past everything, out of the castle, right to the edge of the cliff. I sit on the edge and dangle my legs over, not really thinking about much. I'm not thinking about jumping at all; all that's going through my mind is 'getawaygetawaygetaway'.

It's an extremely cold night, though, and soon I'm shivering and freezing. I sneeze and cough and I hear footsteps behind me.

I start in surprise and fright and tip off the cliff. I'm not falling, though, at least not yet. I'm still holding on with my hands. They're slipping, though, and one new thought runs through my mind like a broken record: 'don't let me die, please don't let me die'.

I desperately try to hold on, but my hands are still slipping. Suddenly there's a face above me. My eyes light up, but then they dull again as I see who it is. It's Malfoy, the whole reason that I'm here.

"Damn, Weasley, how many times do I have to save you in one day?" he asks, but he doesn't sound mad. Then again, I'm not much of a judge, especially right now, while I'm hanging off a cliff.

He holds out a hand and I try to grab onto it, but my hand's too sweaty and numb and cold, and I can't hold on. The other hand slips, and I'm falling, grasping for anything, anything to grab on to, just to prevent me from falling.

I hit my head on a rock and blackness overtakes me.

* * *

Review? Or don't, it's your choice, I'm not going to whore for it. :) 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else you recognize, including elements from Speak, and Lizzy is the only OC who belongs to me. Val, Li, and Lauren belong to themselves.**

**A/N:** I'm sorry. It's been almost a year and a half since I posted chapter one, and I'm really sorry. In my defense, I did warn you guys. Here's an explanation, but it's kinda long so if you want you can just skip to the story.

The major reasons that I didn't update are as follows:

-I had school issues (like, I flat-out couldn't go to school), and so…

-I barely graduated.

-I spent second semester of senior year making up about five classes in addition to my actual schedule. Luckily, I did manage to graduate (with honors, even!). Anyway, that took up most of my time.

-Also, friend issues really made me lose focus… our 'group' never had any drama through the first three years of high school (and through middle school as well), and then it's like everything caught up with us in senior year. Now nobody's talking to anyone, or at least they weren't for a while and now we've split up into two enemy groups, pretty much. It sucks. So that dimmed my desire to write.

-I was on a long reading binge- most of the time, I either read a lot or I write a lot. I've been reading a lot lately (I pretty much keep Barnes and Noble afloat in this economy), and so I haven't been writing much.

-I've been too happy to write a story like this. It's a good thing overall, I guess… but happiness is not conducive to writing a fic like this.

-Oh yeah, and last summer I spent abroad, so I didn't have much time there either.

The main reason why I started writing again last night on this:

-My old violin teacher died a few nights ago from a sudden heart attack. By 'old', I don't mean age-wise… he was only 54. My dad is older than he was, which opens up a whole new can of worms that I don't want to go into. I took lessons from him for eight years, stopping only because of the aforementioned summer abroad. He was an amazing guy, and it was such a shock to everyone. So that knocked my happiness right back down to a level where I can write this again. The questions that Ginny asks herself about Chris' death are similar to the ones I've been wondering about my teacher. I've never experienced a death close to me before, so this is totally new.

So, all in all, forgive me. I'll try to do better. It's summer now, and though I have a job, I should be able to write a bit more.

* * *

"We might lose her."

"Do you think she was _trying _to fall off the cliff?"

"Ginny? Nah. She's a good kid."

"Then what about those marks on her arms?"

Ouch. My head hurts.

I groan and open my eyes. Damn, that's bright. After my eyes adjust, I can see… the ceiling. Oooh, so incredibly hot. Not.

I can hear voices, though. Using my astounding detective skills, I'm guessing that means that there are people in the room.

I struggle to sit up, and finally actually _see_ the people. There's Madam Pomfrey, my mum and dad, and some person I've never seen before. I clear my throat and they turn towards me, startled. There are visible looks of relief on my parents' faces, and Madam Pomfrey bustles over to me.

"Miss Weasley, how are you feeling? Can you move your arms and legs?"

"Like shit, yes, and how long was I out for?"

"You were out for a week and a half. We were beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up."

I think about that. A week and a half? I was out for a _week and a half_?! What happened? My memory fails me. All I remember is falling.

"Ugh, what happened?" The adults look at each other in what are supposed to be surreptitious glances. Finally, Mum answers.

"We were hoping you could answer that for us," she says, a waver in her voice. God, I must've been in pretty bad shape if both my parents are here and Mum's voice is shaking. After six boys, she hardly ever gets this worried.

I rack my brain for some sign of what happened, and an image of myself running across the grounds and stopping at the cliff's edge comes to mind, almost like in a Pensieve. I remember sitting on the edge, and then I remember falling. What escapes me is why I fell. Surely I wouldn't just lose my balance, and if I did, how would I be in one piece? Magic can only do so much.

Ouch. All this thinking is making my brain hurt.

All the adults are looking at me, waiting for my answer. I shrug.

"I don't remember," I say, only half-lying; after all, I don't remember _why_ I fell. And Merlin, my head is freaking killing me. Madam Pomfrey seems to realize this and hands me two goblets, one filled with a purple potion, and the other filled with what I recognize as Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"Take the purple one first – it's a pain relieving potion. Then take the sleep potion and sleep for now," she says kindly. I drink both potions, not bothering to tell her that I've become immune to Dreamless Sleep Potion after taking it every night for a month and a half since _it_ happened. Closing my eyes, I quickly fall asleep even without the potion's aid.

* * *

I wake again to the sound of a small stampede. The door flings open, and several people come running in. My sluggish brain takes a few seconds to register it, but then I break out in a huge smile. The flock of people stop by my bed, breathing like they had just come from a particularly hard Quidditch practice.

"We heard Ginny was awake," Li gasps, trying to catch her breath.

"GINNY!" Lizzy shouts and pounces, landing in my lap. I laugh, wince because it hurts my head, and ruffle her hair, and she grins up at me, nuzzling my shoulder like a cat.

I look up at my guests and discover that there are several of them. There's Li, Val, Lauren, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Plus, of course, Lizzy. Nice.

"Hey," I say, smiling at them. They smile back, and Li comes to sit on my bed with Lizzy and me.

"Hey! How are you feeling?" Val asks. I smile raggedly.

"Like shit, and you?"

I clap my hands over Lizzy's ears as I say the swear word and she scowls at me.

"So what happened?" Harry asked. "Nobody would tell us anything." He sounded disgruntled that he couldn't find out. Hermione didn't look too happy either, since apparently her superior research skills came to naught.

I rack my brain for memories. "I don't remember. I think I fell off the cliff."

Everybody gasps, and I gasp with them, just for fun. Li smacks me and I smack her back.

"But how come you're not a pancake? Who saved you?" Lauren wants to know. I shrug.

"I honestly have no idea," I say, and it's true. Why can't I remember how I fell? Is there something wrong with me? Did I hit my head hard enough to cause amnesia?

That would suck.

After a few more minutes of catch-up chatter, Madam Pomfrey ushers them out of the Hospital Wing. After the doors close in their protesting faces, she turns to me.

"Are you feeling better, Miss Weasley?"

I consider that, running through a mental checklist. Head – a little sore, but okay. Throat – okay. Shoulders and arms – a little itchy on my forearms (healing's a bitch), but okay. Stomach, legs – okay. "Yeah, I'm a lot better," I say with a smile. Better to get out as soon as possible. I don't like hospitals, and besides, the gown is icky. "May I go?"

Madam Pomfrey swells up like a mother chicken, and I have a sudden image of her trying to lay an egg. Merlin, what exactly was in that potion anyway? "Of course you may not! You just woke up today after a ten-day coma! You'll have to stay another two or three days, at least!"

"But Madam Pomfrey," I begin, in a voice carefully designed to have just the right amount of whine and persuasiveness, perfected on my mum over the years, "I'm really feeling much better. I've been gone so long, I really need to go to class and make everything up. I'll get lots of rest and come and see you if I feel sick."

Madam Pomfrey looked stubborn, so I try once more.

"Madam Pomfrey, I'm really okay. I've had worse. I have a bar of Honeydukes chocolate in my dorm. I'll eat some with every meal, and I'm come see you if I start to feel ill. Besides, Lizzy and my other friends are very protective; they won't let anything happen. You know the only time Val ever came in here was when she caught that nasty case of dragonpox after the winter hols last year. And Li takes pleasure in dragging me here if I have so much as a headache."

I can see the nurse shaking her head already, so I bring out the pathos.

"Plus, Lizzy needs me, Madam Pomfrey. She was so clingy today; she only does that when she's really upset. I'm the only one who can calm her down. She's always been sensitive, but now that Chris and Nicole-" my lips press tightly together against my will, and I can't choke out the words, settling for a shake of my head. _Easy, Gin. Don't feel. Regain control_. "I'm all she has left, Madam Pomfrey."

She looks somewhat swayed, no doubt feeling sorry for Lizzy, who lost her whole family so suddenly and so young. The fact that the girl is about the cutest, most innocent-looking girl ever also probably helps, with her newly-acquired air of sadness. I add the clincher: "She's like the sister I always wanted and never had. I have to protect her."

Okay, so the last bit is a bit dramatic, but mentioning protecting a younger sister helps my case, I know. Fred and George once found a piece of paper that supposedly shows a map of Hogwarts if you know the password- which I don't- but I've found out that "Moony," "Wormtail," "Padfoot," and "Prongs" give a short history of each teacher that was at Hogwarts in their time, cobbled together from casual conversations. I found it before I was even at Hogwarts, and I spent hours discovering things during the summers. In my second year, the twins gave it to Harry, but I at least know enough about Pomfrey to be able to hit her weak spot. Her younger sister died when they were children, and Pomfrey always blamed herself. That was why she became a Mediwitch. It was also one of the only things about which the Marauders didn't make jokes.

I feel somewhat guilty about using Madam Pomfrey's loss against her, but the guilt doesn't last long after the nurse lets me change back into my clothes and piles my arms high with potion bottles, pouring a few down my throat while my hands are full.

"You have to stop here in the mornings and directly after classes every day for a week, and tell me if you have any pain, dizziness, or other discomfort. If you don't come, I'll force you to stay in the Hospital Wing for two weeks if I have to tie you down to do it! Make sure you rest a lot, drink plenty of fluids, and eat chocolate with every meal. And make sure you follow the medication schedule I gave you."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," I promise, trying to sound sincere. "I'll take it easy, I swear."

"All right dear, you may go. Send Miss Andersson down if she needs anything."

And she bustles back into her office with a barely-audible sniff, leaving me with an armful of potions and candy bars to carry up four flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. Great, thanks.

As I begin the trek, I start to make a mental list of the potions in my arms that I should keep and which ones can be disposed of. However I fell, I deserved it, I'm sure. I'll heal the long way. But the pain potions, for instance, might come in handy in the future.

My thoughts are soon pushed aside by other thoughts, dark and nagging. What did Chris think and feel in his last moments? Did he know they would all die? Was he scared? Did he beg for his life, or those of his parents and sister? Did he think of Lizzy, blissfully ignorant at a friend's house? Did he want to die, from the pain? Was he envious of Lizzy, still alive, or was he glad that he would most likely die, since then he wouldn't have to live without his family?

I've never allowed myself to think of questions like that, always nipping them in the bud with a silver glint of steel. And now, with my arms full of cumbersome glass, without a blade, I'm vulnerable, and the thoughts attack without mercy like the Death Eaters massacred the Anderssons.

My hands begin to shake, nearly causing me to drop a flask on the hard stone floor. I need the flash of blain, the trickle of blood, the flow of blessèd numbness. Without a second thought, I run to the nearest girls' bathroom, lock myself in a stall, and break a vial of the most useless potion, a thick green concoction made to soothe the pain of the scrapes along my body. I'll never use it, and now it will serve an ironically better purpose. As the viscous potion drips out, I Vanish it, leaving me with clean glass shards. There isn't one with a sharp enough edge, so I break one further until it is perfect: a wickedly sharp corner with a flat side that's angled like a razor. Although my breath is coming in rapid bursts and imagined visions of Chris and Nicole screaming along with an almost vampiric need for blood dominate my mind, I work with a businesslike, almost painfully sharp clarity, snapping carefully until the shard is perfect. Then I put it to my arm and slowly slide it, relishing the pain and closing my eyes as serenity settles over me.

After the laceration stops bleeding, I Shrink the potions and put them all in a pouch I made by pulling the front of my robes out. Only four floors to climb, Gin, and then you can rest.

Until the nightmares come, of course.

* * *

**A/N 2:** Okay, sorry, Draco wasn't in this chapter. He'll be in the next one, probably. And sorry this is short; I just thought that it was good place to stop. And I'm not in practice anymore! Um, about the Marauders' Map thing… I figured that if it could insult Snape, it could probably give information on the teachers. Sirius and James are always portrayed as being charismatic, so I think they could gather information from their teachers about their lives and histories. And if Ginny needed a wand, well, then she could have borrowed Mrs. Weasley's. We see in the… fourth? book that she leaves her wand around sometimes, as shown by her picking up one of Gred and Forge's fake wands.

Reviews and concrit are always good. Please don't flame... but it's obviously your choice. I did try to cut down on the use of "I," as suggested. Thank you, snowfire81, by the way. :) And berryfreezepop, I'll try not to let it meld into one of those cliche fics that are so common. At least mine has good grammar, though! (I think... I'm not used to writing in present-tense, so my verb tenses may be sketchy sometimes.)

Au revoir, my duckies!


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